


i want it, i got it

by bornes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Shopping, Steve Be Spending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 18:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornes/pseuds/bornes
Summary: Ten minutes into their impromptu mall adventure, Steve has offered to buy Bucky a designer sofa he had sat on briefly to rest his legs, a $600 headband, and a diamond-encrusted butterfly clip





	i want it, i got it

**Author's Note:**

> BIG ass thank you to my emotional support Char who provided hand holding and several ideas and test readings

Ever since mid-April when Steve had helped to unfuck the universe and look good while doing it, the Avengers have all been taking it pretty easy. 

The gauntlet had been destroyed along with Thanos’ hopes and dreams around three months ago now, and Bucky has been slowly but surely recovering from being resurrected yet again. The bumbling mess of what was left of the government and letter agencies had made some noises about having the Avengers on permanent alert from then on, but Steve had given them a line which pretty much conveyed the message “don’t call me, I’ll call you” with the heavy subtext of ‘I’m not gonna call’. 

Ever since Bucky died before Steve’s eyes for the second time, Steve’s been on permanent coddle mode - even more than before, which is saying something. Bucky had eventually tried to put his foot down around month 2 when Steve started rushing to open doors for him– shoved Steve against one and told him he may only have one flesh hand but they both work _fine_. Then kissed the resulting pout off of Steve’s face because he knows he meant well, and Bucky is weak. 

But it would take a stronger man than Bucky to stamp out Steve’s natural instinct to pamper Bucky altogether. 

One unsuspecting Thursday morning, Steve watches Bucky patch up the hole in the knee of his sweatpants with a constipated expression on his face for what seems to be as long as he can bear, and then nearly falls over his own feet in his haste to grab his keys and announce that they’re going shopping. 

Sam, on the sofa next to Bucky, looks up from his book and seems to consider whether he wants any part of this or not. Then, he shrugs and says, “Yeah, I wanna see how this plays out ,” and stands up. 

“That’s the spirit,” Steve enthuses, grabbing his jacket and practically shoving them all bodily out the front door. 

“Get in, loser,” Bucky says as he enters the passenger seat. Steve either doesn’t get the reference or is too hopped up on whatever mental turmoil he’s processing at the horror of Bucky doing some sewing that he doesn’t even hear it. 

***

Going shopping with Steve is a lesson in patience. Ten minutes into their impromptu mall adventure, Steve has offered to buy Bucky a designer sofa he had sat on briefly to rest his legs, a $600 headband, and a diamond-encrusted butterfly clip. 

Bucky abandons Steve’s side in favour of trailing along next to Sam.

Then Sam says, “That hair clip wasn’t half bad though.” 

That’s when Bucky knows it’s two against one here and he’s not on the winning side. 

***

In their fifth store, Bucky’s eyes brush briefly past a yellow chiffon dress, which was his first mistake, since he should know by now not to dare look at anything unless he plans to make it his. 

“Do you want that,” Steve says, suddenly standing right next to him. Bucky nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,“ Bucky splutters, laying a palm over his heart. What part of _hair trigger_ doesn’t he understand. “Fucking- don’t creep up on me like that. No I don’t want that. If I was gonna wear a dress, you think I’d wear one the color of-“ he trails off, because Steve has him fixed with a knowing look. Bucky looks down at himself – namely at the bright yellow scarf he’s currently got draped around his neck. He narrows his eyes at Steve. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Steve says, flashing his palms in surrender. 

“You didn’t have to,” Bucky says, jabbing Steve’s upsettingly large chest with a finger. “I have _taste_ , alright. I wouldn’t wear a yellow dress.”

“Sorry I mentioned it,” Steve says, looking like he almost succeeded in stifling his huge grin but just couldn’t quite manage it. 

“What’s wrong with yellow dresses?” Sam asks. 

“Well I wouldn’t wear _this_ yellow dress,” Bucky amends. “This looks like something someone’s ma would wear to church. I’d go for something more in the style of– who was that girl, Steve? Blonde hair, short skirts, we went to a fair together once-”

“Joanna Maloney,” Steve says almost instantly.

“Hm. Gets weird how you have the name of every girl who I’ve ever spoken to on the tip of your tongue like that,” Bucky says. 

“You _asked_ ,” Steve defends himself. 

“Memorising them all probably wasn’t hard once he’d made all the voodoo dolls,” Sam says explanatorily. 

“Right, right, of course,” Bucky agrees. 

“Fuck you both,” says Steve, with feeling. 

***

“I hear people used to reuse toilet paper during the Depression,” Sam says mildly, observing Bucky’s current general state of Bucky. Sam and Steve are settled on the ridiculously plush sofa on the other end of the ridiculously sized dressing room of this ridiculously overpriced store, looking like rough in the diamonds and trying not to spill their newly-acquired drinks on anything. 

“And look at me now,” Bucky says, twanging the elastic waistband of the floral yoga pants he’s trying on. He turns to check his ass out in the mirror. “Holy shit, these fit like a _glove_ –“

“We did not _re-use toilet paper,_ ” Steve says. 

“–and I still have a good range of motion,” Bucky concludes, wriggling a little and then letting his legs slide outwards, slowly dropping into a half split. There’s no way the inseams of these are going _anywhere_ anytime soon. “Oh yeah, these bad boys’ll last a while. What do you think?” he asks, looking back at Steve. Steve’s eyes have to make the noticeable journey upwards. 

Steve looks like he’d replace all the clothes in Bucky’s closet with assless chaps and cowboy boots if that was what Bucky wanted. 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says, looking vaguely hunted. “Those sure are some pants.”

“Worth every penny,” Bucky concludes, managing not to sound too sarcastic. 

“$80 worth of pennies,” Sam says, back to scrolling on his phone. 

“$80 of Steve-mandated pennies,” Bucky corrects him, righting himself and strolling behind the curtain to don his next outfit choice. “I have a quota to fill now. Steve’s trying to show me how even former assassins who can’t stay alive properly deserve nice things.” 

“I’m not–” Steve begins, somehow surprised at being caught out although he hadn’t been even a little subtle here. “You _do_ deserve nice things. And you don’t have a _quota_ ,” is the part of what Bucky said that he chooses to challenge finally. 

Bucky peeks through the curtain to look Steve right in his lying eyes. “I saw you buy me those sunglasses I put back at the Gucky store,” Bucky lets him know. Steve doesn’t even look a little abashed.

“I know you wanted them,” Steve defends himself, folding his arm. 

“You _know_ it’s pronounced Gucci,” Sam says, exasperated. “You always do this. Say it right.”

“Just let me have this,” Bucky says, and disappears behind the curtain again. “They cost so much for a piece of plastic. Expensive pants I’m gonna wear all the time I could maybe make my peace with, but how often do you see me in sunglasses?”

“You wore sunglasses for the entire first month you got out of cryo in Wakanda,” Sam says. 

“Because I wasn’t used to the sun!” Bucky says, peeking around the curtain again. “My body was rejecting its rays, I was like a mirror, they just bounced right off– fine. Fine, I’ll wear your stupid shades,” he relents, when Steve’s expression only grows more determined until Bucky can see that designer couch in his immediate future, showing up unexpectedly at their door. 

“ _Your_ stupid shades,” Steve corrects, and this right here, that smug look on his face, that’s why he used to get kicked up and down every back alley in Brooklyn. 

Bucky pulls the curtain again and tries to remind himself that this isn’t some tragedy or anything, by any means. Plus, he really does like the glasses. They’re hot pink and have rhinestones embedded around the lenses. When he sent a photo to Nat for her opinion, she responded with an extremely rare heart eye emoji, so he knows they’re legit. 

 

***

They get ice cream after. Steve’s carrying all of Bucky’s bags, so he goes without any on account of half of them only being here because of his stealth purchasing or persuasion tactics. Sam’s in the bathroom on account of him consuming three large iced teas during their time here. When Steve starts making noises about whether Bucky’s _sure_ he doesn’t want a second Burberry coat, Bucky spoons French Vanilla into his mouth to shut him up. 

“I’m fine with what I’ve got,” he assures Steve in the fleeting silence while he swallows his mouthful. “I’ve already accepted being your sugarbaby- don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

Steve doesn’t even dispute Bucky’s word choice. Bucky rolls his eyes and then presses their lips together. When he pulls away, Steve looks flushed and pleased.

**Author's Note:**

> steve be like: dollar sign


End file.
